Only the Fallen (UnHallowed Series Book 1)

by Tmonique Stephens

  Gold swallowed her pupils and her head tilted to the side. “I-I do not understand.”

  Don’t make me do this. Gideon gritted his teeth, realizing there was no way out of this hell. “I fucked you. You came. I came. Now leave. Go back to Heaven.”

  He pivoted and stomped his way into the bathroom. The words pained Gideon all the way to the soul he did not have—and as harsh as they were—they were necessary. She had to get as far away from him as possible. Back to where she belonged. Not for his sake. He was as doomed as any Darkling, but for hers. She still had a chance and he wouldn’t steal that from her. He’d taken enough…more than she’d ever know.

  He splashed cold water on his face. It wasn’t enough so he filled the sink and submerged his head. The brain freeze didn’t help. A watery image of Dina floated in the basin. The bewilderment on her face.

  Shit! I really said that to her. Shit!

  He shrugged on a shirt from the nearby closet.

  I had too. It was necessary.

  And that’s why he felt like he’d swallowed a shit sandwich. With any luck, she’d be gone and he’d be left to complete his journey. Alone. The lie burned the center of his chest.

  He stepped out of the bathroom…and silently cursed.

  When would he realize he had no luck? There she stood, fully dressed and just as desirable with clothing. Luckily, her back was to him, wings tucked, so she didn’t see him scrub a hand down his face to remove the yearning.

  “Still here. What the hell will it take for a guy to get some alone time?”

  She didn’t turn, but he did hear a pop, and an unmistakable scent filled the air. Never had panic touched Gideon, until now.

  “Where did you get this?” she whispered, and slowly pivoted. In one hand, his coat, and in the other, the uncorked vial he had hidden in the inside pocket. “Do you know what this is!” she shouted before he could answer.

  “Yes.” He damn well knew what it was. “Let me explain.”

  “Explain?” She choked out. “Tell me how you have—”

  An aura coiled in the center of the room, drew into a focal point, and then exploded in a flash of purple light and another angel appeared. Silver armor glinted under the fluorescent lamps and her lavender bi-level wings flared. She sniffed the air and her sword materialized in her palm. Her gaze and sword darted between Dina and Gideon.

  “I come here, searching for you, to tell you the chancellor is dead,” she tipped her weapon to Dina, “and I find you with his essence. It was you. You killed him?”

  Dina froze, her mouth agape while the angel raised her sword ready to strike.

  Gideon stepped between the two angels. “I killed the chancellor. Strike me. Not her.”

  “Gideon…”

  The anguish in Dina’s voice shredded him. He wished he could tell her the truth, but that chance was gone, and all they had was this moment. The deepest level of Hell couldn’t be worse than the look on her face.

  She capped the vial and stepped toward him. He wondered what she would say. Would it be accusations or questions? The former he deserved. The latter he couldn’t answer. Then again, words were overrated when a sword was just a thought away. Gutting him was always an option. The Jeopardy theme played in his head.

  Multiple auras gathered and the room filled with more angels just as his bedroom door burst open and Riél, Bane, Kushiél, and Chay entered, their weapons drawn.

  Shit just bounced off the wall and splattered over everything. Next would be angel grace and UnHallowed goo.

  Dina stepped in front of him. “Gemma! Put your sword down. All of you stand down!” She ordered, but none obeyed her.

  “You are no longer in charge of these warriors. I am since you gave me your command,” Miss Purple Rain said.

  Gideon hauled Dina behind him and raised his hands above his head. “I surrender to your tender care.”

  “Care? There will be no care for you, Darkling! Only death.” The angel charged.

  Gideon called his own blade and deflected her attack. Dina jumped between them, no weapon in her hand. Gideon shoved her away and traded parries. War broke out around them and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do except fight the angel in front of him. He’d try not to kill her and die in the process. Oh, the irony.

  Damn it, she was good. Twice she’d nicked him. Dina was a distraction as she stood in the middle of the room, an easy target for anyone to kill. Where was his armor? He called to it, and a second later a pool of silver liquid slithered into the room. It snaked between the combatants and crawled up Dina’s body until every inch, except her wings, was covered in Empyreal steel.

  A new aura entered the arena, one more powerful than he’d ever felt. Sunlight filled the room, blinding with its intensity, yet he and none of the UnHallowed burned. They all glanced at each other, awed. It had been so long since any had felt the sun on their flesh.

  The light faded and Michael stood in the center of the room.

  Power rolled off his body, picked everyone up, and tossed them into the nearest wall. “This battle ends now.”

  “You take the side of a Darkling!” Gemma snarled and lurched to her feet.

  “Sticks and stones, Angel. We are UnHallowed. Get it right,” Chay said.

  “What is an UnHallowed?” One of the other angels asked.

  “All of you return to Heaven,” Michael commanded.

  The angels looked at each other, then left one by one, except for Miss Purple Rain. “I’m not leaving you alone with them, Michael,” she said.

  The Archangel snorted. “Do you really think I need your help, Gemma?”

  Shadows gathered in a corner of the room, seemed to pour from the ceiling in a great, crashing wave. Then Sam stepped forth. None of his human façade was present. Instead, flames coated his glistening skeletal face. “You’re going to need all the help you can muster.”

  “Death.” Michael’s demeanor flipped from cocky to wary.

  “You’re slumming in the wrong part of town, Michael.” Sam ignored Gemma and circled the Archangel.

  Michael tracked Sam’s movement. “Today is not the day we do this, Sammiél.”

  Sam grinned, a macabre bone-chilling sight. “Today is as good a day as any.” His sunset colored wings flared.

  Michael’s gold-rimmed eyes narrowed and Metatron’s brimstone and Empyreal blade appeared in his hand. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  Gideon knew there was only one way to avoid the oncoming slaughter. Whose slaughter he wasn’t quite sure. “I surrender to the authority of the Council of Archangel and place myself in your care, Michael.”

  A chorus of no’s came from his UnHallowed brethren as Michael’s aura surrounded him. Sam and the rest of the UnHallowed rushed forward. It was too late. He had one final glimpse of their angry expressions and the disappointment on Dina’s face. Then he was in the clouds, streaking towards a home he never thought he’d see again.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Last in a long line of angels following Michael and Gideon to the oubliette, Dina watched on the peripheral of the crowd as Gideon was pitched into the tinted enclosure made to imprison Darklings of special importance. She winced at the sound of flesh meeting stone and the crunch of bones.

  Gideon climbed to his feet in the circular prison which served a dual purpose as a holding cell and death chamber when the tint was removed and sunlight fried the inhabitant. Darklings burned in sunlight. The same with UnHallowed. Only in the shadows they thrived. The details hammered her brain.

  His features shuttered as he gazed at Michael. Neither spoke, but Dina had no doubt a wealth of words were exchanged in that stare. His gaze swiveled to her and she wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions surging through her, not the anger, not the guilt…and especially not the longing.

  Dina pivoted and left the oubliette first. She knew Gideon’s outcome and it took all her effort to not leap into the sky and not look back. The Council of Archangels had already arrived for the c
hancellor’s ascension ceremony. Gideon’s trial and sentencing would commence after.

  And then his judgment. Suddenly, her limbs were too heavy to continue. She stumbled into a pillar. Leaning on the stone column, Dina rubbed the center of her chest. She didn’t have a heart, so why did that area ache.

  “Follow me,” Michael said and swept past her.

  Dina didn’t move.

  Michael stopped. He peered over his shoulder at her, his brow quirked over his white and gold eyes. Then he was in her face. “You want answers, follow me.” He growled so deep and low, the vibration raked her skin.

  She said, “Yes, Archangel,” when what she really wanted to say was, ‘Go away!’ Duty came before her needs or wants. She pushed off from the pillar.

  “Your armor. Remove it. It sends the wrong message.”

  “And what message would that be?” she mumbled as she just realized what Gideon had done. He called to his armor and had it refashioned for an intimate fit. Every inch of her was protected as never before. She blinked hard to keep the tears away.

  “That you are prepared for war against your fellow angels. Is that the message you want to send, Captain?”

  He used her title to remind her of her duty. It worked. For the moment, she was still a Captain of the Celestial Army. “The armor isn’t mine, Archangel. I couldn’t command it before, I doubt I can now.”

  Michael leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I smell him on your skin, his seed inside of you. I’m sure the armor recognizes you as his.” He leaned away.

  Her face heated, but she met his hard gaze with her chin high. What happened between her and Gideon was beautiful. Nothing and no one could ever take or sully the memory.

  Remove. The armor slithered from her body and pooled at her feet. With another thought, she ordered it to her room.

  “Now we may proceed.” Michael took the lead and she obediently followed. The time to wallow would come later, as in centuries later. She trailed him to the chancellor’s former office and had to run a gauntlet between the company leaders—as usual.

  Come to witness my shame? Her wings flared in challenge. She met each condemning gaze with a glare that was an expletive she dare not say.

  “Scandalous,” Dalmond, Captain of Beta Company, sneered and raked her with a cold stare.

  Dina glanced down and stifled a gasp. She was still dressed in the leather and lace outfit Scarla gave her. Dina had given them another reason to find her lacking. Consistency should count for something.

  They won’t care about my attire when they find out I bedded the enemy. Instead of shrinking, Dina squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine. Each glare she returned in equal measure as she swept into the chancellor’s office.

  Triumph died a quick death when the door slammed closed behind her and she faced Michael—and Aron dressed in new ceremonial robes of the chancellorship.

  Not even a mourning period?

  She struggled to swallow her bitterness and focus on the reason she was here. The door to the inner office opened and Gemma entered the antechamber.

  All the questions Dina had planned on asking, were answered by the crimson on the black cloak draping Gemma’s back. It was a duplicate to the one Dina wore as Captain.

  Dina stood at attention while Aron listed her failings and stripped away her command. It wasn’t unexpected, she told herself. Yet, the loss hurt. She’d worked so hard, poured everything into leading her company, and now it was gone. She had nothing.

  Gemma led the company now, and by the hostility rolling off her, her first duty would be to take care of Dina.

  “As you are unsuitable for a position as a comfort, I will have to consider where to place you.” Aron droned, clearly impressed with the sound of his voice and new authority.

  “She will be a witness,” Michael commanded, instead of suggesting.

  The Archangel had no official jurisdiction in the school, but Aron’s head bobbed even as his lips thinned. Was he now a puppet rather than puppet master? “Excellent idea. She will observe and report. No interactions with humans, animals, or angels outside of the council members.”

  It was the equivalent of solitary confinement—forever. “May I attend the ascension?”

  “No—”

  “Yes, you may.” Michael cut off Aron.

  Displeasure pinched Aron’s face. “Of course, if Archangel Michael finds no fault with your presence, then you may attend. Leave us and return to your quarters. We have much to discuss with your replacement.”

  The return trip through the gauntlet went the same way with glares and now satisfied smirks. Her dignity lasted until she reached her room, then her shoulders sagged, her chin dug into her chest, and she dropped onto the nearest surface. This day had started with a quest for answers and ended with her dismissal. Between the beginning and the end, there was a lesson to be learned. Could be a surfeit of emotions she’d never experienced kept her from understanding the lesson. Could be the forest and tree analogy applied and she was too blind to see the big picture. Could be she was just too stupid.

  Maybe she never had the big picture to begin with: The Great Cleansing created the UnHallowed. The Hierarchy of those fallen angels eluded her. Was there a leader of their little group? If so, who? None that she’d met seemed to step up and take the lead. They all seemed to defer to each other in some loose sense of community without any true direction or purpose. That had to be a good thing because if they did unite under one leader opposed to the Heavenly order…

  Then there was Gideon…and what they did…How he touched her…Made her body sing…Made her scream in pleasure.

  “It was—perfect—wrong,” she murmured, because she had to say the words out loud. Otherwise, they lacked all substance because the way he kissed her, stroked her, owned her body...hadn’t felt wrong.

  “He killed the chancellor. Out of his own mouth, he said the words,” spoken out loud, each word was a kick in the chest.

  How could he be the angel she loved and the angel who killed one she so respected? A shudder knifed through her and hopelessness carved a hole in her stomach.

  “He’s not an angel. He is UnHallowed.” And somehow that was better than the Demoni Lords, who were cast out of Heaven before the Cleansing and their minions, the Darklings, who were the most corrupt souls banished at the time of judgment. Details of the three factions circled her brain, wrapped around each other until the definitions blurred.

  Someone waited for entrance outside of her door. With a thought, the panel slide back and Gemma entered still dressed in her full armor with her sword strapped to her side, the glint of the polished surface almost blinding. Dina rose and gave Gemma a short bow. She deserved no less.

  “Thank you.” Gemma’s eye widened in surprise.

  “The advancement is well deserved. I have no doubt your leadership will bring glory to the company.”

  “Again, I say, thank you.” No warmth reached her eyes or softened her features.

  Dina waited for Gemma to ask what happened. How did she come to be in the enemy’s residence, holding the essence of the chancellor? And she continued to wait while Gemma studied her with thinly veiled hostility.

  They were never friends, that wasn’t possible with the differences in their ranks. A modicum of respect had flowed both ways. At least, that’s what Dina once thought. An image of Scarla dragging Dina and Sophie around the boutique, cajoling them into shopping with such giddy delight that it became contagious, filled her. Then later after the encounter with Sammiél, Scarla’s concern over Dina’s well-being when she expected Scarla to side with who she considered family.

  “Is there something I may help you with?” Dina finally asked.

  “Tell me about the UnHallowed.”

  That caught Dina by surprise and she hesitated. Should she tell Gemma everything she knew from the archives and what she discovered in the training center?

  “The knowledge is in the archives, in the restricted section, but I’m su
re you can do a better job than I did to persuade the archivist to allow you to view the book.”

  “I prefer firsthand knowledge.” Gemma’s tone was as warm as her glacial features.

  “Have you asked Chancellor Aron and Archangel Michael for the information?”

  “I am asking you.”

  The subtle threat landed with the finesse of Sammiél walking into the coffee shop and dragging her into the shadows. Gemma wasn’t Sammiél. The intimidation she strove to achieve failed. She may be Captain, but Dina wasn’t under her command. Bells filled the air and a chorus of angelic voices rang out. The ascension ceremony had begun.

  Annoyance flashed across Gemma’s face. She stormed to the door. “We’ll continue this discussion later.”

  “No, we will not.”

  “In the oubliette, there is another I can question.” Gemma threw over her shoulder, then left.

  Gideon.

  Fear seized Dina but quickly ended. Gemma’s threat was hollow. Angels didn’t torture prisoners. They killed cleanly and with mercy always at the forefront, even for the most heinous criminal or Darkling. And she couldn’t slay Gideon without Aron’s sanction and he would do nothing without Michael’s permission. Dina had to get to Michael.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gideon heard the heavy beat of wings and looked up to see Michael land on the rim of the oubliette. In the next instant, the surface beneath his feet rose until he met his jailer eye to eye. “You must leave.”

  Unfuckingbelievable. “I don’t feel like saving your ass.”

  “Do you feel like dying?” Voice drier than a desert, Michael arched a brow.

  No. For the first time in forever, he wanted to live. Ironic when he’d never been closer to death and he wasn’t counting the prison he’d just escaped from in the equation. “So, I don’t get to kick your ass during this prison break?”

  Michael gave Gideon an ‘as if you could’ glare and turned away. Gideon followed the Archangel to the edge of the platform and peered at the clouds and sunlight stretching beyond.

  “You do know it’s daytime. I may be protected up here by your magnificent angel powers, oh mighty one, but once I go out there,” he waved at the fluffy landscape, “it will be a race to see what kills me first, plummeting to death because I don’t have wings or the sun frying my ass like bacon.”